Fast rising sun
By lace
Amoung the shadows
Shortly after dinner the esgusted scooby gang in it's entirety went up to their respective rooms for a long winter's nap. Well, not quite.
Even Angel was asleep. He had taken a liking to keeping human waking hours that Buffy herself rarely kept. At home, right now, she'd be patrolling. The restlessness kept her awake. She was alone.
"Used to that, 'suppose, ey Slayer?"
The sound was so close to her ear and yet the words were barely audible. She felt him, behind her, and she felt every muscle in her body go numb; unable to move, unable to answer, unable to process thoughts. That voice; that beautiful, sultry, taunting, accented voice- was one she thought she'd never hear again. As the moment passed she tried to justify hearing someone so gone... maybe she was just too tired, with jetlag and busy sightseeing days.
"Ignorin' me already I see. Aren't we past that pet?"
Quickly, the small blond slayer regained strength and whipped over her shoulder to find the man she least expected, most hoped to see. And his sly seductive grin on. He looked incredible. The shimmering hair in perfect condiction, blue eyes sparkling that way they always did looking into hers, an all too knowing expression on him. He was wearing black, even the duster that had been his trademark. The thought crossed her mind... It looked as if a day hadn't passed since... well he had been a vampire until...
"You're dead."
"Memory serves me correct, long as ya knew me, always been."
She frowned at his humor.
"Are you undead?"
He held up his arms and inspected himself.
"Nope. Just plain ol' dead."
Buffy looked pained.
"I remember."
He saw the memories flash in her head, her eyes clouded with emotion the slayer rarely displayed so openly. He reached out to touch her cheek, caressing it with his thumb while watching her dark eye lashes fluttering cast shadows around her deep green eyes. It was ice cold against her flesh, sending a small shiver through her body. She took his hand from her face and held it in her own for a moment. Understanding passed between the former mortal enemies.
"The night when you..."
She paused a long, awkward pause, not meeting his eyes. He smiled. Nothing had changed.
"Died. I died, Buffy. Twice actually."
Spike looked almost contemplative, in an anylitcal way, thinking about the occurences.
Buffy knew she should finish her thought but some how she couldn't bring herself to talk about it longer. And then suddenly, defense mood kicked in and she was angry. Here she was, the slayer, on her first vacation in who could remember how long, with her recently human love of her life, trying to raise Dawn as normally as she could, wwwaaayyy past that, that... thing... with Spike. It had to have been atleast six years ago...
"Four."
"What?"
"Four years ago."
"How did you... Can you..."
"'Don't honestly think the powers would send me down 'ere with nothin' up on you, Summers."
Buffy groaned. That was the last thing she needed. A back-from-the-undead-annoying-as-ever-PTB-working-mind-reading-Spike.
"But ya haven't covered all my powers, love," the vamp whined.
Don't wanna know.
"Suppose you don't."
"Why are you-"
"-Here?"
"Please let me finish sentences."
Her words were tipped with a growl. Ahh, it felt good to get her angry again the way only he could. Made him feel alive again. Or unalive.
"Certainly love."
"Why are you here?"
He dodged the direct question with remarkable smoothnes.
"How's Peaches treatin' you? It's good ya got away. Scoobies seem all happy here, vacationing and all. Nice place to stay too, wines are extensive."
His ocean blue eyes scanned halls and high ceilings.
"I would love to discuss choice hotels..."
"Oh now, Summers, I'm getting the feeling you wouldn't."
He paused.
"You need me here. Simple as that. Big things coming, slayer. Bigger than before."
Don't spare the details. Ugh. He was turning as cryptic as Angel.
"HEY! I heard that!"
"Good."
It came out way harsher than she intended.
"Why m'I gettin' the feelin' ya didn't miss me at all?"
Ouch.
Buffy didn't let herself think, or she would have thought herself out of it. She ran up to the cold, dark figure and hugged him, wrapping her arms around his back and feeling her fingers barely meet. It was a friendly hug, and although she ment nothing more than that, Spike felt gratified. Even though he knew she loved Angel, and that they were more right for eachother now than ever... he still loved her. Spike stood stiff and surprised, arms dangling at his sides, but as the girl burried her face into his shirt, he let himself envelope her. He tried to remember the last time he held her, when he was alive, or atleast living his unlife.
"Dawn will be so glad your okay..." she mummbled into him, feeling oddly tired. She yawned, unable to fight the feeling overwhelming her. He watched saddly as her eyes closed and she began to breath comfortably.
"There! She's asleep, just whatchya wanted," the peroxide blond whispered harshly upward, respecting the wishes of the PTB as he cradled Buffy to him gently.
He lifted her, bringing the small slayer up to her room unnoticed, laying her next to Angel, an act that still pained him, lifting the thin sheets and covering her pale shoulders. She rolled over and snuggled into Angel's warm body. Just the small motion killed him over and over. In a swirl of black coat he left the two.
By lace
Amoung the shadows
Shortly after dinner the esgusted scooby gang in it's entirety went up to their respective rooms for a long winter's nap. Well, not quite.
Even Angel was asleep. He had taken a liking to keeping human waking hours that Buffy herself rarely kept. At home, right now, she'd be patrolling. The restlessness kept her awake. She was alone.
"Used to that, 'suppose, ey Slayer?"
The sound was so close to her ear and yet the words were barely audible. She felt him, behind her, and she felt every muscle in her body go numb; unable to move, unable to answer, unable to process thoughts. That voice; that beautiful, sultry, taunting, accented voice- was one she thought she'd never hear again. As the moment passed she tried to justify hearing someone so gone... maybe she was just too tired, with jetlag and busy sightseeing days.
"Ignorin' me already I see. Aren't we past that pet?"
Quickly, the small blond slayer regained strength and whipped over her shoulder to find the man she least expected, most hoped to see. And his sly seductive grin on. He looked incredible. The shimmering hair in perfect condiction, blue eyes sparkling that way they always did looking into hers, an all too knowing expression on him. He was wearing black, even the duster that had been his trademark. The thought crossed her mind... It looked as if a day hadn't passed since... well he had been a vampire until...
"You're dead."
"Memory serves me correct, long as ya knew me, always been."
She frowned at his humor.
"Are you undead?"
He held up his arms and inspected himself.
"Nope. Just plain ol' dead."
Buffy looked pained.
"I remember."
He saw the memories flash in her head, her eyes clouded with emotion the slayer rarely displayed so openly. He reached out to touch her cheek, caressing it with his thumb while watching her dark eye lashes fluttering cast shadows around her deep green eyes. It was ice cold against her flesh, sending a small shiver through her body. She took his hand from her face and held it in her own for a moment. Understanding passed between the former mortal enemies.
"The night when you..."
She paused a long, awkward pause, not meeting his eyes. He smiled. Nothing had changed.
"Died. I died, Buffy. Twice actually."
Spike looked almost contemplative, in an anylitcal way, thinking about the occurences.
Buffy knew she should finish her thought but some how she couldn't bring herself to talk about it longer. And then suddenly, defense mood kicked in and she was angry. Here she was, the slayer, on her first vacation in who could remember how long, with her recently human love of her life, trying to raise Dawn as normally as she could, wwwaaayyy past that, that... thing... with Spike. It had to have been atleast six years ago...
"Four."
"What?"
"Four years ago."
"How did you... Can you..."
"'Don't honestly think the powers would send me down 'ere with nothin' up on you, Summers."
Buffy groaned. That was the last thing she needed. A back-from-the-undead-annoying-as-ever-PTB-working-mind-reading-Spike.
"But ya haven't covered all my powers, love," the vamp whined.
Don't wanna know.
"Suppose you don't."
"Why are you-"
"-Here?"
"Please let me finish sentences."
Her words were tipped with a growl. Ahh, it felt good to get her angry again the way only he could. Made him feel alive again. Or unalive.
"Certainly love."
"Why are you here?"
He dodged the direct question with remarkable smoothnes.
"How's Peaches treatin' you? It's good ya got away. Scoobies seem all happy here, vacationing and all. Nice place to stay too, wines are extensive."
His ocean blue eyes scanned halls and high ceilings.
"I would love to discuss choice hotels..."
"Oh now, Summers, I'm getting the feeling you wouldn't."
He paused.
"You need me here. Simple as that. Big things coming, slayer. Bigger than before."
Don't spare the details. Ugh. He was turning as cryptic as Angel.
"HEY! I heard that!"
"Good."
It came out way harsher than she intended.
"Why m'I gettin' the feelin' ya didn't miss me at all?"
Ouch.
Buffy didn't let herself think, or she would have thought herself out of it. She ran up to the cold, dark figure and hugged him, wrapping her arms around his back and feeling her fingers barely meet. It was a friendly hug, and although she ment nothing more than that, Spike felt gratified. Even though he knew she loved Angel, and that they were more right for eachother now than ever... he still loved her. Spike stood stiff and surprised, arms dangling at his sides, but as the girl burried her face into his shirt, he let himself envelope her. He tried to remember the last time he held her, when he was alive, or atleast living his unlife.
"Dawn will be so glad your okay..." she mummbled into him, feeling oddly tired. She yawned, unable to fight the feeling overwhelming her. He watched saddly as her eyes closed and she began to breath comfortably.
"There! She's asleep, just whatchya wanted," the peroxide blond whispered harshly upward, respecting the wishes of the PTB as he cradled Buffy to him gently.
He lifted her, bringing the small slayer up to her room unnoticed, laying her next to Angel, an act that still pained him, lifting the thin sheets and covering her pale shoulders. She rolled over and snuggled into Angel's warm body. Just the small motion killed him over and over. In a swirl of black coat he left the two.